Once
by Kyla Baines
Summary: Cullen thought that he had left his insecurities and hidden desires behind when he left Kinloch Hold. When he learns the identity of a dark-haired beauty in Kirkwall, though, old doubts begin to resurface. A gift to the 200th reviewer of Duty and Devotion: the lovely Melysande!


**A/N: **_This is a gift for the lovely __**Melysande**__ for being the 200__th__ reviewer of _Duty and Devotion_. When I asked her what she wanted, she said that a scene from the "Enemies Among Us" quest came to mind, where Bethany tells an aggressive m!Hawke to be careful how he acts around the Knight-Captain. It got her wondering what would happen if Cullen found out that Bethany was an Amell and a mage. As a lot of you know, I'm all about Cullen, and am also a big fan of Bethany! Strangely, I'd never thought about doing a Bethany/Cullen pairing before this, though! _

_Mely, I hope that you enjoy! _

_I knew an Amell, once_…

Cullen's words haunted him. He couldn't believe he'd actually had the audacity to _say_ something like that—and to Garrett Hawke, of all people! Regardless of how insufferable the man was, it was not his place as Knight-Captain to volunteer any information of a personal matter. He'd learned long ago not to let his emotions lead him astray.

Hawke and his entourage had arrived at the Gallows, fury gleaming in the dark-haired man's eyes. Although the conversation had started amicably enough, it didn't take long to escalate beyond anything that Cullen had expected.

Cullen hadn't a clue why Hawke was so outraged, and guessed that it likely stemmed from his love for the mages—a courtesy that wasn't usually offered to any other citizens of Kirkwall. Garrett Hawke was hard, through and through.

Hoping to lighten the mood, Cullen sought to share just a piece of his memories of the one, shining light at Kinloch Hold. Everything else couldn't be forgotten soon enough. "Hawke! The new scion of the Amell family… congratulations!

"Knight-Captain," Hawke replied through clenched teeth by way of a greeting.

"I knew an Amell once," Cullen said carefully. "She was… a special woman. I've never met her like again." He'd swallowed hard, tamping old memories back behind his composed exterior once again.

He made eye contact with Hawke just in time to see a bare fist flying toward him at frightening velocity. Hawke's fist had made contact with his jaw, and Cullen supposed that he had all his years of training to thank for being able to absorb the blow. Maker, that didn't lessen the hurt, but at least the bone hadn't shattered.

Cullen narrowed his eyes at the angrily-pacing man in front of him. Hawke's outraged words rang throughout Gallows courtyard, and a multitude of heads turned his way. "You damned, hypocritical _bastard_! Did you think you could soften the blow by telling me about the cousin that was so lovingly sent away by her own family and locked up in your bloody tower in Ferelden, only to be dragged off to fight darkspawn and die for the cause? Why in the _Void_ would you think that reminding me of Solona Amell would make things any better?"

Cullen was floored. "What do you mean, Hawke? Soften _what_ blow?"

"Do I have to say it, templar? Are you telling me that you're really going to stand there—the picture of innocence—and _make me spell it out_?"

Cullen chose his next words carefully, ignoring the venomous glare that Anders had fixed him with. "Hawke… I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're going on about."

Hawke gave a sharp bark of laughter. As he spun on his heel, he turned to his lover, the dark-skinned… lady who Cullen had met only once. "Someone else deal with this idiot. If I have to look at his face for a moment longer, I might just kill something."

The pirate fixed Cullen with a smoldering gaze that was enough to make his neck flush, then gave a low whistle as if to say "now you've done it".

"Listen, messere—"

She laughed throatily. "Oh, sweet thing… there's no need for such formalities with me. I'm not nearly as tight-laced as the innocent little mages you bully about."

"Very well," Cullen replied. "Please, then, enlighten me as to Hawke's current predicament. He and I have never exactly seen eye-to-eye, but it's never come to blows before now."

"You really _don't_ know, do you?" the woman asked, cocking her head to the side. "Well, then. Let me fill you in. Hawke came home to Kirkwall not a fortnight ago, sent his mum off to the Viscount with enough money to buy back his estate, only to arrive there after getting everything in order to find a _lovely_ little message, complete with the templars' seal."

"But… I never—"

The woman continued on as though she hadn't heard him. "I don't remember the specifics, but it said something along the lines of this: 'Serah Hawke, we hope that your trip was successful. Regrettably, we've discovered that you've been harboring an apostate—one Bethany Hawke. We're not too happy about that, so we've taken her to be locked away in the Circle Tower for her own good.' And, my good templar, I'm sure you're bright enough to figure out exactly how well that went over, hmm?"

Cullen was speechless while he tried to process this news. _Bethany Hawke—Bethany _Amell_… an apostate?_ He wondered who had found this out… and why he, the second-in-command, hadn't been informed.

"Well, I must be off!" the rogue emoted before skipping lightly away, leaving Cullen alone to work through this unexpected turn of events.

Two months later, it was as though Cullen was back at the Circle Tower in Ferelden. Back then, he'd wanted so much to prove himself. His too-serious attitude had made him an easy target, though.

He had been so young, and so easily distracted by a pair of mischievous eyes and a lips that smiled as though they held secrets that were begging to be released. A smile from Solona Amell had been enough to send him stuttering, and casual touch from her hand had made him trip over his own feet.

He'd thought that he was beyond all that, now. Clearly, Cullen was wrong.

He found himself penning his own name in to shifts that could easily be covered by the younger templars, simply to catch a glimpse of Bethany Hawke as she tutored the younger students. Despite her brother's obvious hatred toward him and his kind, Bethany seemed to be made of a different mold. Upon passing him, she'd look up from under dark lashes, and whisper a polite greeting.

Every time he felt his heart race and his palms begin to sweat. He was powerless against the effect of those impossibly blue eyes… Amell eyes.

How had he not seen it before? Now that he'd noticed, the resemblance between Bethany and her older cousin was plain to see. It was as though a hazy curtain had been in front of his vision, and the moment he knew _who_ she was, Cullen truly could see again. Solona was there in Bethany… in the stark black of her hair, although Bethany's was long and wavy, begging to have fingers combed through it. It was in the generous curves that led from lithe waist to hips that sent a man's blood boiling. It was—more than anything—in those enchanting eyes. Eyes that seemed to be laced with lyrium, for all their power to ensnare the senses and leave you reeling from their absence.

_Maker… I thought I was past all this_.

Late one evening, Cullen found himself in his office at the Circle, though his tired body ached for his living quarters in Templar Hall. He fought to keep his eyes open as he reviewed the stack of complaints that had filtered to him through the Knight-Commander. Petty things, mostly—the apprentices running about the hallways after curfew, some of the templars demanding less hands-on practice because their best robes had been singed by an overzealous fire spell, and other sundry items.

He gave a sigh and stretched his arms above his head. The rest of these could wait until morning.

He rose and left, careful to lock the door behind him. He knew better than most the trouble that apprentices could get up to, given half an opportunity. As he walked down the hall, he heard soft humming coming from beyond a door that stood ajar. Hesitating only a moment, he pushed the door wide enough to allow his broad shoulders to cross the threshold, and sucked in a breath at the vision before him.

Bethany Hawke was curled up on one of the sofas, her boots kicked off and feet tucked under her. She was clearly engrossed in the book she held, and it was her clear voice that sang a wordless tune. Long, black hair tumbled around her face, and that almost-smile that he knew so well curved her lips. She was utterly relaxed. Utterly beautiful.

Cullen must have made some sound, for she gave a strangled gasp of surprise and surged to her feet, her blue robes swirling around her ankles.

He couldn't speak for a moment.

"I apologize for startling you, Enchanter Hawke," he said quietly.

She laughed lightly, the sound sending thrills down his back. "It's quite all right. And lately, I've been going by Enchanter Amell… sort of a tribute to my heritage, if you will."

Cullen swallowed hard. _Andraste, give me strength_.

When he didn't reply, Bethany moved a few paces closer, leaving her book behind. "You know, Knight-Captain, you're really not at all what my brother says you are." That smile left him paralyzed again.

"Ah, and… exactly how is that?"

"Well, you've had enough interaction with Garrett to know how protective he is of me. He can come off a bit… harsh," Bethany said. "But I think there might just be another side to you."

"Indeed?" Cullen was barely able to get that one word out, such was the affect this woman had on him.

"'Indeed'," she quipped. "I find myself believing that behind this hard exterior, there's someone warm. Caring. Maybe even someone who doesn't necessarily condone how much the mages are oppressed. I've seen how you've looked on with disapproval when your brothers carry out harsh punishments… I know you certainly don't report all the infractions that you see."

"I—"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to say anything… why would I?" she said quietly before fixing him with that brilliant gaze again. "I guess what I'm trying to say, is 'thank you'."

Cullen could only dip his head in response.

"You know," Bethany went on, edging close enough to touch now, but not yet making that last move, "I can't help but think that you're a rather unique man, Ser Cullen. A special man."

He sucked in a breath and, for only the second time in his life, cast aside the rules and duties that bound him. He pulled her flush against him and lowered his mouth to capture her lips in a tentative kiss. Cullen's pulse pounded frantically in his neck, and his entire body burned from the sensation that this one, chaste kiss could cause. He hadn't been able to resist, but he had acted rashly… completely without thought. He pulled reluctantly away, just far enough to see Bethany's porcelain face. Her eyes fluttered open, and her soft lips gave a smile more sweet than any he'd seen yet.

With a soft moan, he bent to kiss her again, this time harder, more fervently. When she sighed and parted her lips, her graceful hands moving to twine around his neck, Cullen knew: once again, he was lost.


End file.
